The Good Doctor's Scrutiny
by Redderhead
Summary: Sherlock has never been for a doctor's examination before. Apologies, its' rated M because of naughtiness. JOHNLOCK - of course. If you do not enjoy that sort of thing please do not read. I own Nothing.


_The Good Doctor's Scrutiny_

"You have never -?"

"No" Sherlock interrupted his friend from his position at the microscope, staring intently at his new glass slide.

"And you got –?"

"This morning" Sherlock interjected again dismissively.

John bit the inside of his cheek as he leant a hand on a wooden chair opposite the detective, holding a red mug of fresh tea in his other hand.

"Sherlock, you should really-" John began, only to be overridden once more;

"John, there is no danger; how could _I _possibly be open to what _they_ are looking for?" Sherlock spat as he now lifted his head from the eyepiece to point at the angry red perforated edge paper sitting innocently on the wooden tables' surface.

"But Sherlock, everyone –" John started with an honest expression.

"I'm not the commonwealth" Sherlock interjected.

John stared at Sherlock through determined eyes. "You need a check up" the doctor said, his tone strong, his stance soldier-like.

"And _how_ do you propose to get me through the door?" Sherlock sneered as he looked at the army doctor.

"Sherlock, you work in St. Barts at weekends!" John exclaimed incredulously, putting his mug on the table.

"That is entirely different, I go _to_ research not _be _researched." Sherlock said moving his glass slide slightly under the microscope.

"Sherlock. You. Are. Going. To be checked out" John said in a dangerous low voice as he placed his hands palm down on the table to lean over it.

"And how do you suppose that?" Sherlock bit as he stared up at the usually shorter man in cold defiance.

0000

"Now stand still, Sherlock" John said as he applied his green latex gloves, his head firmly lodged on the task in hand.

"This is utterly ridiculous" Sherlock muttered discontentedly as he leant on the edge of the bathroom sink.

"But necessary. Do you have any idea how horrific cancer can be?" John asked with each word wrapped carefully in concern.

"Surely not finding out would be kinder" Sherlock muttered once more, looking closely at the material of the white window blind.

"Spread your legs" John said in a Doctor-like manner.

Sherlock let out a deep suffering sigh before he obeyed, holding his blue silk dressing gown up above his waist as he stared at the window pane closely, he felt the cotton trousers fall to his ankles and sensed John kneel on the ground behind him.

"Ok, Sherlock" John said with an additional lick to his lips; "I'm going to just put some lubricant on my index finger and then insert it in here, is that ok?" John asked, following procedure to the latter, ever the professional.

"If you insist" Sherlock grunted with a defiant flick of his head and a flare of nostrils.

John sighed and did as he was trained to do. The doctor felt the warmth of Sherlock's rather intimate area, he licked his lips once more as he averted his eyes from his activity, feeling around inside for the small triangular muscle he knew he would eventually find.

Without warning, Sherlock let out an almighty shudder and his eyes grew wide with fright. John knew he had found what he had been searching for and was rather amused at the result; this compelled John to run a finger over the muscle again and he smiled widely at the result as Sherlock bucked slightly against the sink and down onto John's finger simultaneously.

"J-John?" Sherlock asked shakily, his knees quivering as he leant his bodyweight against the porcelain sink. John straightened his face as much as possible and let out a slight cough.

"It's ok Sherlock, just means I've hit your prostate." John explained, surprising himself with the huskiness of his usually calm voice.

John tried to focus on the task in hand but couldn't resist exploring this new territory – seeing Sherlock in complete helplessness.

John added a second finger surreptitiously and roamed the new area with ease, clumsily hitting that small vulnerable muscle once more and marvelling at the low growl Sherlock released.

After a few more nudges to the sensitive spot deep inside Sherlock, John decided to actually do the task he had set off to complete. Finding nothing out of the ordinary, he couldn't help but to relapse into making his flatmate buck and writhe against the bathroom sink, clutching the sides of it with bone white fingers; John would never see washing his face in there innocently anymore.

John let out a slightly awkward cough as he removed his fingers from the detective and was again amazed by the disgruntled moan he received, however, an idea hitting him astonished him further and he turned Sherlock on the spot – directing the taller mans hips with his full palms. John began to seriously question his relationship with the raven haired genius as he looked up from the consulting detective's extraordinarily excited member to see his flushed face and heavily eyelids, that full pink bottom lip was held tightly between two rows of strong white teeth.

"While I'm here, I should really examine the rest" John whispered, allowing his eyes to fall on the startling sight that was currently eye level with him.

Sherlock did not say a word as John began to remove his gloves and gently feel around the most private part of any man's body. John examined Sherlock thoroughly before standing to his feet, watching the vulnerable detective as he leant against the sink, his hands behind his hips, holding him upright.

Neither knew who moved first. However, John immediately found himself pulled flush against the excited genius; his mouth fully occupied by a set of lips and teeth, and certainly a tongue that was not his own. He felt hands grab greedily at his hair, his clothes, his buttock cheeks and back.

John pulled away from the detective for only a second to allow them both to breathe before they leapt back into each other; John immediately took the lead – pushing Sherlock into the cold tiles separating the shower from the sink.

Sherlock growled hungrily as he felt the cold tiles cool his heated skin through his silk dressing gown and tshirt.

John instantly rid himself and Sherlock of all clothes, letting their skin come into contact for the first time in their four years as flatmates, friends and colleagues.

Simultaneously they moaned into each other's mouths and began the frantic dance of bucking hips and clashing lips until Sherlock's nails dug deep into John's shoulder blades making ten perfect half moon shapes across the soldier's shoulders. The taller man writhed out of control and moved back a fraction of an inch to look deep into John's eyes as he came. John gasped at the fire he saw in the grey-blue eyes in front of him, he saw many mysteries, many solutions and many deaths all in that one simply complex moment before he too, climaxed. Falling against the detective and breathing heavily.

Before long, Sherlock let out a slightly manic giggle as he rubbed his nose into the hair at the back of John's neck, John could do little else but join in on the infectious sniggers.

"How did my check up go?" Sherlock asked eventually in a wheeze.

"Absolutely fine, no problems here at all" John gasped in reply.

"Good. Good." Sherlock said with a breath caught in between the two words.

John leant back slightly to achieve a self-supporting standing position as he pushed himself away from the naked detective.

"John" Sherlock began, looking down for a brief second before looking up once more at his doctor.

"Umm?" John said as he approached the toilet roll dispenser, grasping some of the material to clean his stomach and lower half off.

"When was _your_ last check up?" Sherlock questioned with a furrowed eyebrow.

"Well, I check myself" John said as though it was obvious.

"You mean, I could have done that myself?" Sherlock questioned further, still leaning elegantly against the blue and white bathroom wall tiles.

John furrowed his own brow; "Yes, I suppose you could have…" he said eventually, bending down to fetch up his own discarded trousers.

"And yet, you elected to do it yourself" Sherlock mused as he looked to the ceiling.

"I knew you wouldn't do it _yourself_" John said as he attempted to pull a leg of his trousers onto himself.

Sherlock moved quickly, grasping the trousers from John's mid – activity and throwing them over his shoulder into the bath, the attached belt making a loud clink against the porcelain.

"I think I need to be examined again, Doctor." Sherlock said huskily as he approached the smaller man with dangerous eyes.

John gulped and noted the amazing colour of Sherlock's eyes disappearing behind the black shadow of lust, Sherlock was a fast learner and within seconds his frame had pinned the soldier to the same tiled wall.

"Although, this time…I need a _full_ examination" Sherlock husked as he nudged his nose into John's own.

John smiled coyly as his arms snaked around the thin detective helplessly.

"Anything you say, _Mr Holmes_" he replied in his best Doctors' dialect.


End file.
